


Harry Potter and the Queer Child

by queerRus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Harry Potter, Gay Sex, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Lesbian Character, M/M, No Lesbians Die, Queer Themes, Quidditch, The Quidditch Pitch: Self Pleasure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:52:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerRus/pseuds/queerRus
Summary: Nineteen years after the destruction of He Who Must Not Be Named, a new generation of witches and wizards fill the halls of Hogwarts Castle. Two fifth years, Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter, have no idea that they are about to embark on a year full of mystery, danger, and love to rival perhaps even their parents’.With personal glory and Hogwarts’ very reputation on the line and a hidden enemy in their midst, a young group of Hogwarts students must find the courage to face an uncertain fate. Along the way they will figure out exactly what, or perhaps who, they are fighting for.All aboard the Hogwarts’ Express, as two unlikely heroes battle for their lives and the chance to break down the heteronormative, heterosexual bonds that shackle Hogwarts.





	1. A Year to Remember

Smoke curled from the chimney of the scarlet Hogwarts Express, drifting through throngs of expectant students until it came to swirl around the feet of a certain family, led by a man with a scar on his forehead. Each member of the group was clad in fabric of crimson and gold, except for the younger boy, whose emerald and silver attire shone in the reflection from the polished train.  
A particularly blond boy stood stiffly some distance away, his weight not quite balanced on either foot. A pony-tailed man placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder, not unkindly, but causing the boy to lose his balance in a most ungainly manner.  
“Dad!” Scorpius sputtered, sitting down hard on a trunk propped next to him.  
“Scorpius,” Draco Malfoy drawled. “Are you going to go say hello to the Parkinson girls? It’s your fifth year, it’s time you start making connections that you may find… necessary for your future.”  
Scorpius began, “I have connec--”.  
“I don’t mean the Potter boy,” Draco spoke over him. “You may be in the same house now, but your paths will surely diverge once you leave Hogwarts.” Scorpius pushed himself up off the trunk, fists clenched, and turned away. He winced when the screech of the train’s doors sliding open carved through the air. As call to board the train floated into the momentary silence that followed, Scorpius scooped up his smallest bag and slung it over his shoulder before facing his father.  
“I had best be going. The compartments fill up quickly,” Scorpius offered, forcing the corner of his mouth to rise. His father examined him for a moment and opened his mouth slightly, only to let it fall closed again with a cautious expression that, had it graced the face of any other than Draco Malfoy, could have been mistaken for a smile. He reached out and gave the boy’s shoulder a single pat. Then, with a nod and a flick of the walking stick he carried, the boy’s trunks rose and floated, missing the children racing to and fro by scarcely more than a hair, joining the steadily growing pile by the back of the train.  
Scorpius muttered his thanks before dipping his head and slipping his way through the crowd to the nearest open door. He looked back toward his father briefly, but a sharp shove between his shoulder blades sent him sprawling on the steps. Scrambling up to his feet, he gathered his bag to him and shuffled down the corridor in search of an empty compartment. Glancing left and right, Scorpius was met with blank stares from eager first years already clad in their Hogwarts robes and seventh years who sprawled across the seats, careless in their Muggle attire. Scorpius traveled largely unnoticed, a condition which he preferred. The way he saw it, he’d rather people be unaware of his existence entirely than speculating about him behind his back.  
Finally, in car three, the occupant of the last compartment on the left came into sight. Scorpius could already feel a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickened his stride, and nearly jogged the last few feet to the sliding glass door, which he pulled open with an exclamation of, “Albus!”  
Before Scorpius sat a young man in a green sweater, black hair tousled in a way that suggested it could never be tamed. A grin spread across Albus’ face, and he stood up.  
“Scorpi–OW!” Albus Potter’s greeting was cut short as his head collided with the luggage rack above. Grimacing, he rubbed his head, while Scorpius fidgeted in the doorway.  
The two looked at each other for a moment, green eyes meeting grey. “Well… you’ve gotten taller,” Scorpius stated. A laugh bubbled up in Albus’s throat, and he choked out a, “Yeah, I suppose,” before the two dissolved into fits of laughter. Scorpius stumbled as the train ground into gear, and lurched across the compartment to use Albus as a support, which only furthered the hilarity.  
Eventually, laughs faded to hiccupping gasps, and Albus dabbed his eyes on the corner of his sweater. “Come here, you,” he said warmly to Scorpius, arms held open wide. Scorpius bridged the few inches between them, throwing his arms around Albus’ back.  
The two sat back on the upholstered seats, grinning and catching up on the little things that fuel a best-friendship. As the British countryside raced past the window, the trolley witch rolled to a stop outside their compartment.  
Some time later, the two slumped against the window contentedly, stomachs full of pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes. Scorpius finished regaling Albus with tales of a summer spent touring the magical catacombs of Istanbul, a misguided, albeit heartfelt, father-son bonding attempt, Scorpius assumed. Just as Scorpius bit into his third chocolate frog, Albus cleared his throat and mumbled, “There’s actually something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”  
Scorpius nearly choked on his frog. “What’s that?” he spluttered.  
“Well, you see, it’s sort of a long story. But I suppose you don’t all need the details.” Albus paused, took a deep breath, and then let forth in a single rush, “I kind of... met someone. Over the summer.” As the color drained from Scorpius’ face, Albus rushed to reassure him, “I know you’re probably worried about us hanging out less, but I promise nothing is going to change. She has a lot of cool friends too, and having more people to hang out with will be good for us!”  
Scorpius simply stared. Then, with an oddly pinched look on his face, he squeezed out, “Who?”  
The tips of Albus’ ears began to turn pink as he broke eye contact. “Andromeda McLaggen. Andi, for short. She’s a Ravenclaw, in our year.” Albus paused. “We met over the summer. Her family vacations at Kelpie-Head Lake, near my town, and Lily and Andi’s younger sister got really close, so we all started hanging out, and, you know, Andi and I got closer…” When Albus looked back at Scorpius, he was met with the top of the boy’s head as Scorpius fiddled with the chocolate frog box in his lap. “I swear, you’re going to love her.”  
Without looking up, Scorpius softly responded, but the sound was lost in the squeal of brakes as the train began its descent to the station at the base of Hogwarts.  
“What did you say?” Albus questioned timidly.  
Scorpius, whose pale complexion was becoming mildly tinted with green, muttered, “I’m sure she’s great, Albus,” in a tone that suggested her being anything but.  
The two lapsed into silence, broken as the train trundled into Hogwarts Station and hundreds of students flooded the corridor, anxious to reach the Great Hall and its promise of warm food. All too excitedly, the boys leapt from their seats, sweeping out of the compartment to join the stream of young witches and wizards making their way toward the start of a new year.


	2. Broomsticks

Scorpius rolled over to see sunlight streaming through the enchanted window that hung beside his bed, an impossible view of the quidditch pitch shining in the distance. Feeling sick to his stomach, he buried his head under the pillow, groaning quietly to himself.  
Suddenly, a thump on his back distracted him from his worried musings. Scorpius dug his head out from under his pillow only to be met with another feathery blow, this time to his exposed face. He briefly debated simply wriggling out of reach, but when the edge of the pillow caught his eye on its third whack, he decided the risk was too great.  
“Stop that, you bastard, I can’t afford to have only one working eye today, of all days.”   
Albus laughed and let the pillow loose one final time, to fly at the space where Scorpius’ head had been a moment before. Scorpius grabbed at the fluffy projectile. “Thanks for the extra pillow,” he smirked.  
As Scorpius went to bury his head under both pillows, mumbling, “I’ve decided I won’t be leaving this bed today after all,” Albus leapt out of bed and grabbed Scorpius’ shoulders, shaking him not unkindly.  
“No no no, you’ve been practicing for this since the third year. You can’t bail now,” Albus scolded. “Now get up or Marcus is going to eat all the sausages before we get there.”  
“Fucking Goyles…” Scorpius muttered as he hauled his body, drained after only a week of classes, out of bed.

\---

Traipsing into the Great Hall clad in his quidditch robes, Scorpius felt his stomach drop another level. He knew it was unlikely, but he could’ve sworn all the eyes in the Hall were trained on him.  
He stopped in the doorway. “Albus, I’m not sure this is such a good idea…”  
Albus looped his arm around Scorpius’ neck, and guided his friend to the far left of the Great Hall, where Slytherin House’s table was set. “Once you have some food in you, you’ll feel much better, I promise.” Scorpius frowned, but let Albus steer him to a seat at the table nonetheless.  
Before Albus had a chance to take his seat next to Scorpius, a flash of blue and bronze back at the entrance of the Hall caught his eye. He patted Scorpius on the shoulder briefly to draw the slender boy’s glare away from the pile of sausages he’d stacked onto his plate. “Andi just walked in. I’m going to go grab her, I’ll be right back.” As he strode away, he looked back and tossed over his shoulder, “And you better have eaten those sausages before I get back.”  
As Albus strutted across the Hall, it became apparent that he dwarfed the girl he was eagerly approaching. They met and Albus draped his arm around her shoulders. Andi tossed her strawberry blonde curls over her shoulder and the two headed back toward the Slytherin table.  
“Hey Scorpius, good luck today.” Andi greeted the grimacing boy. He grunted an unintelligible response around his mouthful of sausage before focusing his undivided attention on the goblet of juice before him.   
“Excuse him, he’s just nervous for tryouts.” Albus rolled his eyes.   
Albus continued to watch Scorpius as he rounded the corner of the table, attempting to pull out a section of bench for Andi. The wooden bench greeted the flagstone floor with a screech, but the bench didn’t budge. Scorpius stifled a snicker as Albus finally won his battle with the bench, and Andi sat down across from him. He met Albus’ eye for a moment, but looked away quickly, returning his gaze to his now-empty plate, no longer a viable distraction.  
“Would you look at the time, I have to be at the pitch, Albus, Andi, a pleasure as always,” Scorpius exclaimed forcedly, beating a hasty retreat toward the lesser of two evils.

\---

Scorpius’ broomstick was slick with sweat as he stood waiting with thirty of his fellow Slytherins on the dewy grass of the quidditch pitch. The sun was just beginning to peek over the grandstands. Scorpius squinted against its harsh rays. Slytherin’s captain, Sebastian Sernett, appraised the group before him. Perhaps Sernett was tall, but it was hard to tell with the way his shoulders curled forward. The glossy, black scarf that he wore matched his robes so perfectly that it appeared he had no neck at all.   
Sernett’s broomstick and his signature beater’s bat lay propped against the chest which Scorpius knew to contain the quaffle, snitch, and bludgers. Anticipation gripped him, and his breath grew short at the same time that Sernett’s eyes, which suddenly seemed beady, scanned him from head to toe.   
“Malfoy,” Sernett barked. “A bit… late to be trying out for the team, in your fifth year, don’t you think?” Scorpius didn’t think Sernett’s face could get any less appealing, but the sneer accompanying Sebastian’s remark somehow managed to make it even more grotesque.  
“Better late than never, I suppose.” Scorpius muttered. Sernett threw a disdainful look Scorpius’ way, a look Scorpius was sure had to have been practiced in the mirror, before moving on to address the whole group.  
“Alright, maggots, on your brooms. Let’s see what you have to offer the institution that is the Slytherin quidditch team. If I had to guess, I’d say not very much.”   
Players reached for their broomsticks as Sernett picked his bat up off the chest. Flipping the latch, he raised the lid and with a much less audible click, he released the binding around one of the bludgers. With a high pitched whistle, the bludger shot straight into the air. The players, momentarily shocked by the abrupt release, stared as the ball rose above them. Many began to shield their eyes as it was lost in the blinding light of the sun which had now risen fully above the grandstands.   
“Tick. Tock.” taunted Sernett.  
Limbs flailed, and the players scattered as the scream of the bludger announced it’s trajectory back towards the stunned group of students. A well-placed elbow from a tawny-haired third year sent Scorpius sprawling and his broom flying from his hand. Around him, streaks of green and black shot off the ground and all he could do was roll out of the way and scrambled on his hands and knees toward his broom as the bludger smashed the ground, catching the edge of his robes dragging behind him.  
The sound of tearing fabric followed Scorpius as he reached for his broom. Tattered robes flapping behind him, he kicked off from the ground and rose into the air. Unfortunately, having pushed off at a slight angle, Scorpius’ takeoff was not as graceful as he might have hoped. Cartwheeling in the air, he fought to regain his balance and raced after his competitors, who had already begun the first drill.   
Sweating profusely after several brutal rounds of hurling quaffles at the Slytherin team’s impenetrable keeper, Scorpius settled on his broomstick, several hundred feet above the ground. With his few minutes of freedom, Scorpius scanned the grandstands. A gust of wind blew his nearly translucent, blond hair into his eyes. Shaking his head with annoyance, he caught sight of a familiarly tousled head of black hair. Scorpius spurred his broom toward Albus excitedly, but stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of the smaller, blue-and-bronze-clad figure holding Albus’ hand and gaze. With a grimace, Scorpius paused to watch the pair for a moment, his eyes trained on the black-haired boy, before wheeling around and moving in the direction of what would surely be more drill-induced pain from Sernett.

\---

Scorpius trudged wearily from the locker rooms, having waited for the other boys to clear out. He hoped to avoid any awkward moments with his younger competitors, and also, in the back of his mind, that perhaps Andi would have had some pressing matter to attend to.  
He felt as if he’d been clobbered by Sernett’s beater’s bat, both physically and mentally, but he couldn’t help thinking that he had not made a complete fool of himself at tryouts. He had gotten the quaffle past the keeper a number of times, and been the fastest to catch the snitch at least once in the seek-and-return drill.   
With a slight bounce in his step after his musings, Scorpius headed in the direction of the grandstands, knowing that Albus would be waiting for him to walk back up to the castle.   
Scorpius reached the stands, but was slightly perplexed when he didn’t see Albus at the base of the Slytherin section. He wondered if Albus was perhaps enjoying the last rays of sun as it set around the backside of the stands. Poking his head around the corner, he jerked backwards, nearly tripping over his trailing robes, the sight before him already seared into his brain. Albus’ body pressing Andi’s slimmer form up against the green and black backdrop of the stands. Albus’ hands at Andi’s waist, one disappearing under her robes. Albus’ tongue in Andi’s mouth--Scorpius turned and sped away from the horror behind him. Had someone seen his hasty retreat, they would have been perplexed by the way his gangly limbs seemed both stiff and fluid. His brain told him to run, but his tired body could only muster a brisk walk.  
The scene played over in his head as he strode across the grounds, Scorpius’ face reddening with every iteration. He tried to convince himself that he was not upset that they were making out, but that Albus had ignored him, his best friend, on a day that was supposed to be his. Albus knew long Scorpius had been training for this day, and in the end, the chance to make out with some girl under the stands trumped their many years of friendship.


	3. Rising Tensions

After a day spent moping around the library, halfheartedly flipping through a slowly dwindling pile of books, Scorpius was no closer to discovering what you would get from adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his stiff wooden chair, stretching his arms above his head as he glanced out the window at the Black Lake, steeped in gold by the last rays of the sun as it crawled behind the mountains on the horizon.  
Scorpius’ stomach grumbled loudly, disrupting the tranquility of the scene and resulting in a scowl from Madam Pince, who happened to be passing the stack he occupied at that moment. This incident having been at least the fourth time his stomach had spoken up, Scorpius scooped his half-filled parchment and a few books into his bag, then set off in the direction of the Slytherin common room.   
He didn’t quite know how he managed to be hungry considering the pit of lead that filled his stomach at the prospect of seeing this year’s Slytherin quidditch team posted on the common room bulletin board. Scorpius hurried his steps, shoes clicking on the stone that covered the lower regions of the castle. He hoped to glance quickly at the bulletin board, confirm the sinking feeling in his stomach, and be off to the Great Hall for supper before Albus and Andi arrived. Was it too much to ask for a boy to eat away his sorrows in peace?  
Reaching a stretch of blank stone wall, indistinguishable from the rest of the hall, Scorpius stood and muttered a password. The wall slid open, revealing a dim sitting room, bathed in the emerald light of the Black Lake. To Scorpius’ dismay, there was already a crowd of Slytherins gathered around the board where he knew the results of tryouts were posted.   
Swallowing the bile that rose to his throat, Scorpius stumbled over to the chattering group of students, unable to hear much less process what they were saying. Most of them being second- and third-years, he could see over their heads, to the nondescript sheet of parchment pinned to the wall before him. He took a step closer. His eyes scanned the list hungrily. Under ‘Chasers’ was listed Barnaby Milton, an imposing sixth-year returner, Ambrosia Malachite, who must’ve been a new recruit, and… no. It couldn’t be. Scorpius Malfoy. All of a sudden, Scorpius’ hearing returned to him, and the conversations around him flooded his ears. “Nice work, Scorpius, who knew you were a quidditch fellow!” A fellow fifth-year clapped him on the back.  
“Th-thanks,” Scorpius stammered, in complete shock as more students flooded around him, trying to get a glimpse of the parchment, and congratulating him once they did.  
“I better go,” Scorpius muttered to no one in particular, when the press of people on him became too much. He turned and fought his way through the growing crowd, finally sliding back through the stone wall into the enveloping quiet of the Hogwarts cellars.   
Minutes later, Scorpius entered the Great Hall, and was met with a very different sort of noise. Almost as soon as he stepped through the doors, he was accosted by Rose, who let out a cheerful, “Congratulations, Scorpius! I can’t believe you made the team!” Catching sight of the look on his face, she amended quickly, “I mean of course I can believe you can, you have the skill and all, I’m just-”  
“Rose, it’s fine,” Scorpius chuckled, “I can’t believe I made it either. Must’ve been a fluke.” He shrugged.  
“Scorpius, you can’t keep doubting yourself the way you do,” Rose frowned, giving him a characteristic Granger look of disapproval.   
Scorpius wasn’t in the frame of mind to respond to that. So instead, he smiled, saying, “I really do appreciate the congratulations, Rose, I am so excited,” and turned to stroll toward the Slytherin table as his stomach rumbled grouchily.  
However, he wasn’t even halfway there before he found his path blocked by Albus and Andi. Sighing, Scorpius resigned himself to his fate and plastered a queasy smile onto his face.   
“Scorpius!” Albus exclaimed, stepping forward to crush his friend in a bear hug. “Congrats, man, this is so exciting! I mean I saw you, you played so well, I had no doubt.” Albus stepped back, grinning proudly.  
Scorpius muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “You saw a lot more of someone else.”  
“Sorry, what was that? Didn’t quite catch it.” Albus inquired curiously.  
“Oh, uh, nothing, just saying thanks,” Scorpius grinned a little too broadly.  
“Yeah, congrats, Scorpius, really excited for you,” said Andi halfheartedly. She knew Scorpius wasn’t her biggest fan, and never had been quite sure why. When Scorpius failed to respond, simply turning his nauseated smile onto her, Andi waved and sidled off toward the Ravenclaw table, with a “Catch you later, Albus.”  
Albus waved her off and then slung his arm around Scorpius’ shoulder. Scorpius twitched involuntarily. “Just think what this is going to do to our social standing!” Albus exclaimed excitedly. “Outcasts no more!” He joked.   
Scorpius tolerated Albus’ arm on his shoulder until the two reached the table, where Scorpius slid out from under it and plopped heavily onto the bench. He reached for the food, glad to finally have a distraction that would give him a break from everyone wanting to talk to him. He knew he should be incredibly excited about making the team, and he was, certainly, but all of his excitement seemed fogged by what he had glimpsed under the stands.  
He was torn from his reverie when Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts Headmistress, stepped to the podium set before the High Table, an eagle’s golden wings outstretched to form the top. “Good evening, Hogwarts students!” Professor McGonagall stated, her voice magically amplified to fill the Great Hall.  
“I didn’t realize there was going to be an announcement tonight, did you?” Albus whispered, nudging Scorpius. Scorpius shrugged and set his attention back on McGonagall.  
“As some of you may have already heard, we are lucky enough this year to host our American sibling school, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for an inter-school Quidditch tournament.” Professor McGonagall paused, clearly anticipating an excited chatter to break out. She wasn’t disappointed. Once the hubbub had died back down, she continued. “This, of course, means that Hogwarts must field an all-school quidditch team, for which tryouts will be held in the coming weeks.” Another outbreak of animated conversation ensued. McGonagall held up her hand, and the hall quieted almost immediately. “Your heads of houses will communicate the dates of these tryouts to you shortly. Otherwise, on behalf of the school, we ask you to assist in preparations to welcome our guests most graciously. I know you all will share with us in celebrating this occasion of international unity.”  
Applause filled the Great Hall, and all dinner conversations turned immediately to the prospect of an all-Hogwarts quidditch team.  
Albus turned immediately to Scorpius. “Do you think you’ll try out?” He questioned excitedly.  
Scorpius shrugged casually, though nervous anticipation flooded him. “I don’t know why I’d bother. It’s a fluke I made the Slytherin team, I wouldn’t be able to compete with all the talent in the school.”  
“C’mon, Scorpius, you and I both know you have a shot. I saw you in tryouts, you were incredible. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Albus frowned slightly. “That reminds me, where’d you go after tryouts? Andi and I looked but we didn’t see you anywhere.”   
Scorpius felt his face burn red. “I, uh, I didn’t see you. I spent a while in the showers, de-stressing, you know.”  
“Oh, okay.” Albus shrugged. “I just thought we had agreed to meet, is all.”  
“I thought so too,” Scorpius muttered viciously under his breath.  
“Sorry, what was that?” Albus asked. “You really have to speak up Scorpius, I can’t hear what you’re saying half the time.”  
Scorpius cleared his throat. “You know what, I should really finish the homework for potions tomorrow.” He pushed away his half-finished plate.  
Albus’ face lit up. “Oh, great, I’ll come with you, I can’t figure out the properties of wormwood for the life of me.”  
“No, that’s really okay.” Scorpius knew he was being petty, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’m sure you and Andi have plans, I wouldn’t want to disrupt that. I’ll see you in potions tomorrow.” And with that, Scorpius fled, already kicking himself for treating his best friend like that. Though as Albus stared after him, confusion and a twinge of hurt playing across his face, Scorpius couldn’t help but feel that his friend deserved to feel a little discomfort too.

\---

Scorpius awoke in what was fast becoming his standard morning state-of-being--groggy and annoyed. Today, however, he was tempted to speed up his usually snail’s pace routine in favor of fleeing the common room before Albus awoke. Unfortunately, he heard that plan fall apart before it had even begun with the telltale grumbling of his best friend rousing from his own restless night of sleep. Begrudgingly, Scorpius left the warm cocoon of his bed and began going through his uncharacteristically silent, morning routine.  
Had the two boys not run in to Ambrosia, a chatty third-year and Scorpius’ new teammate, Scorpius was sure he would not have said a word the entire trek to the Great Hall. In fact, even with Ambrosia’s incessant quidditch commentary, Scorpius barely offered up one and two word responses to Ambrosia’s ceaseless stream of questions.   
Parting ways with the younger Slytherin, the two sat down in their usual seats near the High Table. As Scorpius reached for the pitcher of Pumpkin Juice and piled his plate with sausages, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Albus made no move to begin his own breakfast.   
Scorpius set his fork down and turned to look at his dark-haired companion, “Are you okay?” He asked with a pointed look at the other boy’s plate.   
“Uh, yeah. I mean, yes, I’m fine. Are we?” Albus responded, tentatively making eye contact with the boy who’d barely acknowledged his existence since the previous evening.   
Scorpius eyed Albus for the longest of seconds before sighing, “We’re alright, Albus.” Although he was still slightly unsure about exactly what had been wrong between them, Albus was too relieved to question further. With a grin, and all hopefully forgotten, he reached over and stole a sausage off Scorpius’ plate. The corners of Scorpius’ lips unwillingly twitched and he grabbed the plate of sausages, shoving them at his laughing friend.  
Stomachs full and beginning to cut it close on time to get to class, the boys exited the tall entryway of the Great Hall and walked towards the staircase down to the dungeons and the potions classroom.   
A curly haired, ruffled Gryffindor nearly took Scorpius out as she came barrelling onto the stairs behind them. Face grim, Albus turned to chew out the offending individual, but was met with familiar eyes, “Rose!” He exclaimed at the sight of his cousin. “What happened to you?” He inquired eyeing Rose’s untidy robes, mismatching socks just visible in the skewed mess.  
“Your brother happened to me.” Rose huffed. “As prefect, he decided that today was the day for a surprise inspection of Gryffindor bedchambers. I spent all morning hiding certain… gifts from Uncle George. To think, Sir James, The Righteous is supposed to be promoting our learning and whatnot and he almost makes me late for my first class with a new professor.” The two boys laughed as Rose fell into step with them.   
They were still laughing at Rose as she attempted to fix her robes as they walked into the surprisingly professor-less classroom. Taking seats in the middle of the classroom, they organized their cauldrons, textbooks, and homework, which had been assigned in anticipation of the first class. As the final students filled the back of the class, Scorpius and Albus made eye contact conveying, through years of practice, their curiosity and confusion at the lack of an instructor.  
Looking back to the front, they almost missed the entrance of a young witch with platinum blond hair pulled into a messy bun and professor’s robes draped around her slim form. The Potions professor had been missing from the High Table since the beginning of school and Albus was stunned that it appeared this woman, barely older than he, was to be his new teacher.   
Actively working to keep his mouth closed and with eyes as wide as they’d go, he swiveled to face Scorpius. While the boy seemed entirely unaffected by the gorgeous fantasy of a witch who had just entered the room, Albus did find his expression mirrored on Rose’s face. Presumably, she too had been looking for Scorpius, but that didn’t prevent the moment in which the two registered that it was in fact the other who they were looking at. Both flushing a classic Weasley red, they returned their focus to the professor, now at the front of the room.   
“Welcome to Potions. I’m Professor Simulata. I hope you have all done your homework or today’s lesson isn’t going to go too well for you. Please take out powdered root of asphodel and wormroot…”


	4. Phantom Snakes

Floating candles shone down on the four long House tables. Live bats fluttered above, the flickering light illuminating the occasional wingbeat. Carved pumpkins, spaced every few feet along the tables, shone from within with their own candlelight. They grinned, some malicious, some jovial, at the students seated before them, who were waiting expectantly for heaping servings of delicious food to appear on the enchanted plates before them.   
Scorpius stared at the empty plate before him, lost in his own thoughts of broomsticks, OWLs, and green eyes. He was jerked from his reverie by a nudge from Albus, who threw a pointed look toward the High Table, where Professors McGonagall and Simulata appeared to be having a heated discussion, which they were attempting to conceal from the nosy Professor Flitwick seated to their right.   
“What do you think they’re arguing about?” asked Albus.   
“Don’t know, maybe McGonagall heard about Sophia Bell,” Scorpius responded.  
“What exactly happened to her?”   
“You really don’t pay attention, huh?” chuckled Scorpius. “Sophia had a minor accident in the potion’s classroom this morning. Apparently, she spilled bubotuber pus that was meant for the fourth years. Madam Pomfrey doesn’t think her hands will be healed in time for the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff game this weekend.” Scorpius turned back to the table, now magically covered in a cornucopia of dishes.  
Scorpius flinched when Albus’ elbow found a bony crevice in his ribs. Swiveling back to Albus with a glare at the ready, his momentary irritation faded as he was met with a full blown grin from his best friend.  
“Bell is Gryffindor’s chaser, right?” Albus enthused. “If she can’t play, that seriously helps your chances of making the all-Hogwarts team!” Scorpius blushed, shrugging and stuffing a bite of steak and kidney pie into his mouth to cover his discomfort.  
Scorpius changed the subject, not wanting to admit to Albus how badly he wanted to make the all-Hogwarts team.  
At that moment, a commotion arose a few feet down the table. Albus and Scorpius snapped to attention. Near the source of the noise, a few students began to draw their wands, an unusual occurrence in the Great Hall. As more heads began to turn toward the jabbering of panicked voices, a scream pierced the gentle chatter that filled the hall. “It’s a snake!” a pale-haired girl screamed, overturning a bench and sending her neighbors toppling into the aisle in her haste to escape. Albus rolled his eyes at Scorpius, used to Halloween pranks of this nature. His only move was to bring a newly loaded fork to his mouth.  
Her outcry was echoed, and in a wave of sound and noise, Slytherins and their neighboring Ravenclaws leaped up from their seats, searching frantically for the rumored reptile. Suddenly, a Ravenclaw first year shrieked, “I think I see it! It’s right there!” His outstretched finger extended out in front of him, leading to the Slytherin table across the aisle, directly under where Albus and Scorpius were seated.   
As students around him leapt up onto the tables to escape the alleged serpent, Albus shook his head at the tomfoolery going on around him. “It’s not real, everybody, relax.” He stated, eyeing a second year up on the table whose feet were dangerously close to knocking over his goblet of pumpkin juice.  
At that moment, Scorpius could swear he felt a thick something slide over his shoes. Wild-eyed, he turned to Albus, who had clearly felt the same thing. The two boys caught each other’s gaze for a moment, then, of the same mind, leaped for the bench. Scorpius felt his cloak catch on a wooden splinter poking out from the table, pulling him back down within the snake’s reach. Just as he thought he would fall prey to the snake’s fangs, Albus seized him under the armpits and hoisted him onto the bench beside him. Scorpius clung to him, the panic flooding his senses slightly tempered by the strong presence holding onto him.  
As the uproar spread to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, the professors seated at the high table became aware of the commotion. With a flick of Professor Flitwick’s wrist, the Slytherin table, students and all, rose up off the floor. Scorpius leaned far enough to see serpentine body slithering below where they had previously been seated. Having seen more than enough, Scorpius lurched back in a panic, attempting to get as far as possible from the translucent snake below. Scorpius, concluding that up was the only direction to go in order to put even more distance between himself and the phantom below, wrapped his legs around the closest possible target. He inchwormed his way up the body, not caring about anything except getting farther away from that snake.   
Professor Simulata, seated directly above the Slytherin house at the High Table, rose smoothly to her feet. Her stormy blue eyes pinned the snake under the table and with a smooth wave of her wand, the phantom vanished. The commotion in the Great Hall, however, took significantly longer to die down.  
A muffled grunt pulled Scorpius from the clouds of fear washing over him – an unfortunate incident with a boa constrictor at the tender age of four had made him particularly sensitive to reptilian threats. Scorpius looked down to find that he was clutching a dark head to his chest and his legs were wrapped around the figure’s torso. Loosening his grip, he met Albus’ eyes, displeased, flecked with the faintest tinge of concern.   
Scorpius flushed seven shades of red and gave Albus a sheepish smile. Then, he began a wordless and agonizing descent down Albus’ body. Halfway down, Albus attempted to lurch away. Scorpius began to lose his grip and felt Albus’ wand graze his ribs as he tumbled dangerously backwards off the edge of the slowly lowering tables, still floating precariously far above the ground. Albus’ hand snapped out and caught Scorpius wrist before he could tumble to the ground. Dragging the slender boy into a seated position on the bench which finally touched down onto the ground.   
As Albus lowered himself down next to him, Scorpius glanced at the destroyed feast before him. His eyes fixed on the curious sight of both his and Albus’ wands resting next to their abandoned meals. Glancing curiously over at his friend, he found Albus waving over at the Ravenclaw table. Following his gesture, he barely spotted the caramel head of hair before turning back to his ruined meal and scolding himself for the thoughts that had begun to spiral in his head for the briefest of moments before reality, just like the table, touched down.   
With all the mayhem having finally died down, the students were able to return to their feast. Scorpius and Albus ate the rest of the meal in an awkward kind of silence, engaging their neighbors in conversation. When Albus finally bid Scorpius a mumbled goodnight and departed in the direction of the Ravenclaw table, Scorpius found himself relieved, for the first time, that Andi’s attention had drawn Albus away.  
Once Scorpius was sure Albus had cleared out, he stood up ponderously, the evening’s events having drained him utterly, though leaving a tingling, nervous sort of energy in his chest. Scanning the hall, he saw Rose standing up from the Gryffindor table, bidding her friends a happy Halloween as she gathered her robes about her and made to leave the Hall.  
Scorpius shuffled toward the exit, intercepting Rose. “Oh, hi, Scorpius,” she said, surprised. “Where’s Albus?” She looked over his shoulder, clearly expecting to see her cousin trailing close behind.  
“Uh, he, uh, he left with Andi,” Scorpius stammered.  
“Ah, duty calls, I see,” Rose responded with a conspiratorial wink.  
Scorpius turned the choking noise that rose to his throat into a demonic-sounding laugh. Rose stared at him strangely.  
“So, uh, are you going to the library?” Scorpius queried, a little too quickly.  
Rose laughed. “I’m not my mom, Scorpius, it’s Halloween.”  
Scorpius swallowed. “Where are you going, then? I could come with you.”  
Rose peered closely at him. “Scorpius, are you alright? You seem a bit… on edge.”  
“Just leftover nerves from the snake, is all,” Scorpius covered quickly, his cheek twitching involuntarily as he said it.  
“Okay…” Rose said slowly, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Well, if you must know, I’m going to Professor Sprout’s Halloween party. I’d bring you along, but it’s invite-only. Sorry Scorpius.” Rose shrugged.  
“Oh, it’s alright, I should probably head to bed anyway, sleep off these jitters, you know.” Scorpius laughed unconvincingly and, turning on his heel, nearly jogged from the hall, Rose curiously watching his retreat.


	5. The Bulgarian Maneuvers

Albus awoke the morning after Halloween with a headache. He’d spent the evening with Andi and her Ravenclaw friends. They’d snuck up to the top of the astronomy tower and drank smuggled butterbeers. He’d tried to focus on getting to know Andi’s friends, but with the butterbeer in his system he couldn’t help it as his mind had drifted back to the events of the Halloween dinner. He’d decided on his walk back to the Slytherin common room that the previous evening had been a fluke and he hoped that Andi didn’t read too much into his distractedness the night before.   
Albus considered going back to sleep and enjoying the beginning of his weekend, but the dryness in his mouth forced him from his blankets. Stumbling blearily to the bathroom, he wiped the sleep from his eyes and stuck his head under the tap to try to alleviate the parched feeling. Much more aware, he walked back into the bedchamber and was startled to see Scorpius’ empty bed. He looked around and was shocked to find not a single Slytherin still asleep in his bed.  
“Holy Hippogriff!” He snarled. Today was the Slytherin vs Ravenclaw quidditch match, the season opener, and judging by the empty beds, Albus was late. In a panic, Albus threw on the robes at the top of his not-yet-unpacked trunk and raced into the common room. The room was eerily quiet, confirming what Albus had hoped to be false – he was in fact very, very late. 

\---

“Welcome! Today, I bring to you the first match of the season – Slytherin vs Ravenclaw!!! So pull out your allowances, young-first years, and place your bets because we are in for one hell of a matchup today!” Maya Jordan hollered into the magical microphone from the announcers box.  
“There will be no student betting on Hogwarts sanctioned matches!” Professor McGonagall hastily corrected over Jordan’s raucous laughter.   
Albus could hear the roar of the stadium and that urged him to run faster as he tore down the grounds toward the quidditch pitch. He cursed all the times he’d passed on joining Lily in her athletic endeavors as his breath wheezed out of him and a sharp pain dug into his left ribs. Luckily, the commotion caused by Jordan’s betting comment and the subsequent attempts to calm the crowd bought him just enough time that Albus reached the base of the Slytherin grandstand as Jordan began announcing the teams.   
“And leading Slytherin we have seventh-year beater Sebastian Sernett. I bet everyone already knows this because the boy can’t walk down a corridor without announcing it himself, but Sernett has been team captain for two years. In his first year, Slytherin did win the house cup. I would say this is a slight downward trend for the boy since Gryffindor, the best house in my humble opinion, took that title from him last year.” A harsh clearing of the throat was caught by the microphone, interrupting Jordan’s monologue. Albus, who had been taking a moment to catch his breath, groaned and forced himself to start his arduous journey up the stairs two at a time. He was beginning to feel panicked that he might not make it before Scorpius’ name was called.  
“Anyway. Let’s hear your cheers, or your boos, for Sebastian Sernett. Slytherin’s seeker…” Unable to hear Jordan over the pounding in his ears and the wheezes coming out of his mouth, Albus dragged himself up the final flight of stairs and popped out into the daylight. “... Malachite and finally Scorpius Malfoy.”   
Albus attempted to give a whoop, but found that he could only cough and wave emphatically as Scorpius kicked off after his fellow chasers. Albus wasn’t sure if Scorpius actually looked over at the stands, but he jumped and waved his arms at his best friend nonetheless. As Jordan began to announce the Ravenclaw opponents, Albus finally made his way down into the grandstands in search of a place to sit. He spotted Andi and Rose easily, both sticking out in their incorrectly colored robes and he made his way to them.   
“Where have you been? Did you miss Scorpius’ take off?” questioned Rose. Then she paused, and the accusatory glint in her eyes dimmed as one of mirth took its place. “And why are you wearing your dress robes?”  
Judging by the heat of his face, Albus was sure his skin had gone from lightly tan to a more plum-like color. Albus had noticed that the robes didn’t quite fall as he was used to, but had written that off as a byproduct of his rush and his running. However, looking down he confirmed that, in his rush, he had in fact put on his special occasion robes. He drew the front around him in an attempt to hide the ruffled collar and sophisticated style before sitting down next to Andi.   
“I overslept. None of my oh-so-lovely fellow Slytherin’s bothered to so much as kick me on their way out, so I woke up to an empty common room. I was in a bit of a rush in getting dressed,” he motioned to his dress robes, “and I ran all the way here, so cut me some slack.”   
While Andi had the decency to try to smother her giggle as she patted Albus’ arm, Rose had no such tact. Her guffaw turned Albus’ face to such a deep scarlet that he might have been mistaken for a Gryffindor fan.   
“–ready your omnioculars folks, because Madam Hooch looks about ready to blow her whistle. Let’s hope those ancient lungs can muster up a good bit of air flow today. Wouldn’t want a repeat of last year’s Gryffindor false start which I still hold was one of the most flagrant attempts at cheating this school has ever seen–”  
“Jordan! Do not make me take that microphone away from you. This is your last warning!” McGonagall’s impatience must have become too obvious for even Maya Jordan to ignore, and she quieted as Madam Hooch made her standard warnings about fair play and the consequences for the lack of it. With a vengeful blow on the whistle that would have been painful even to the most hardened of ear drums, the game commenced.   
As far as Albus could tell, the game was going as all quidditch games go: fast, competitive, and dangerous. Albus winced every time he heard the thunderous crack of a bat on a bludger and his eyes scanned the field to make sure Scorpius wasn’t on the other end of the redirecting ball.   
After a particularly narrow miss in which a Ravenclaw chaser forewent the quaffle all together and tried to take Scorpius off his broom, Albus once again found himself lamenting that he hadn’t persuaded Scorpius to find a different hobby in their second year, when his quidditch obsession had begun. If only he’d developed a liking for something like owl-care or knitting.   
Albus himself had never understood the fascination with the game. He could appreciate the skill it took to play, but he found the game overall to be mildly trivial. This of course was an opinion he had never dared share within earshot of his mother, father, aunts, uncles, or really anyone even most tangentially related to him. If there was anyone who liked quidditch more than the Weasleys, it was the Potters.   
So while he theoretically knew everything there was to know about the game, having rarely appeared on a pitch, he failed to see the nuances as they occurred real time on the field. However, as Jordan announced that a chaser scored another ten points for Ravenclaw, he learned that his cousin had inherited all the zeal for the game which he lacked.   
Rose had no trouble at all diving into the finer points of the broomwork and strategy of each individual player on the field. Andi was a relatively lackluster audience, so Albus found himself feigning interest as Rose went on and on about the high level maneuvering the Slytherin keeper was employing to keep the onslaught of the Ravenclaw offense to a manageable thirty point lead.   
When Rose’s attention moved from the keeper onto the Slytherin chasers, Albus perked up. He found himself captivated as Rose explained the formation the chasers were using to pass around the Ravenclaw offense.   
“I’m not sure I see what you’re describing…” Albus interjected into the brief pause in which Rose surveyed the pitch before them.  
Rose chuckled. “Of course you don’t, you’d have to actually look at all three chasers to see the pattern.” The color which had mostly faded from his cheeks began to return, and he was about to respond, when a bludger nearly unseated Scorpius from his broom. Almost falling out of his seat, Rose full on laughed, “My point exactly.”   
Unable to come up with any verbal response to the jab, Albus resorted to lightly digging his elbow into his cousin’s side. “You were saying about the chasers?” Rose happily dove back into a description of form and finesse.  
“No sightings of the snitch so far today. With Ravenclaw up by 30, seems like the Slytherin chasers need to start pulling their weight…”   
Albus rolled his eyes at Jordan’s continuous heckling, and nudged Rose. “Don’t you think she’s being a bit unfair? Weren’t you just describing, in painful detail I might add, how the Slytherin chasers were employing some new tactic that won Albania the Quidditch World Cup last summer?”   
Before Rose could answer, Andi interjected, “They are, yes. But Ravenclaw is using it too. And frankly, Malthius Davies is doing it better than Scorpius.” At Albus’ surprised look, Andi shrugged.  
Albus frowned and turned his attention back to the pitch, grumbling, “I think Scorpius looks rather good up there.”   
“Really? He’s kind of flailing around…” Andi responded, speaking to the side of Albus’ face as he scrutinized his best friend flying above. Albus grunted.  
With a brief, but probably not long enough pause, Albus scoffed, “This is the Slytherin section, if Davies is so good, perhaps you should go.” Turning to Rose for support, he was met with a bemused expression.  
“Hate to break it to you, cousin, but Andi’s right. Scorpius isn’t exactly the most graceful flyer I’ve ever seen.” There was the briefest of moments where it seemed as if Albus might stick to his previous words and make Andi leave. However, sufficiently scolded, he met Andi’s eye with a sheepish smile.   
“Sorry.” Andi narrowed her eyes at him. She was fully aware that this single word was all she was going to get from Albus when it came to defending his best friend. Wordlessly, she reached out and took his hand. Andi returned her attention to the game and Albus briefly glanced at his cousin. She gave him a knowing smile and quirked her brow, but soon she too turned her eyes back to the sky. Feeling oddly unsettled, Albus paused for a moment, before shaking his head and seeking out the flash of blond among the robes of green and silver above him.


	6. In the Light of the Lake

An hour later and still grinning, Scorpius materialized through the wall into the Slytherin common room. He was bumped and jostled from all sides by his teammates, all laughing and joking good-naturedly. For once, he wasn’t bothered by the constant contact.  
As soon as the quidditch team entered the common room, a raucous cheer rose from the Slytherins that were gathered in wait, illicit butterbeers adorning many an upraised arm. Scorpius received a punch on the arm, a pat on the back, and watched as his team dispersed around him to their respective friends gathered around the common room. He glanced around him, and as a cluster of third years moved from in front of the fire, Scorpius saw Albus, Rose, and Andi seated on a plump sofa, waving him over excitedly.  
As Scorpius steered himself around chairs and through groups of excited students, met with frequent congratulations, Albus and Rose stood up to greet him. Rose stepped forward, but Scorpius had eyes only for the broad smile that creased Albus’ green eyes. The excited chatter around him seemed to dim for a moment, and Scorpius stepped forward and wrapped Albus in a long-armed hug. As Scorpius held on, he felt Albus freeze for a second, but then return his grip, almost tentatively. The boys held on to one another perhaps a split second longer than necessary. Scorpius felt Albus’ grip tighten before the two stepped away from one another. Scorpius felt a blush creep across his cheeks. He met Albus’ awkward smile with a similar expression and murmured, “Thanks for coming.”  
Rose cleared her throat loudly. Scorpius met her eyes, almost startled to hear how loud the common room had become. Rose squinted at him, a concerningly knowing look in her brown eyes.  
Behind Albus, still seated on the sofa, Andi shattered the island of silence. “You played well, Scorpius! We all thought so,” she smiled.  
“Th-thanks, Andi,” Scorpius stammered, caught off guard by the praise.  
Albus looked at Andi, surprised after the time she spent criticizing Scorpius’ aerial maneuvering during the match itself.  
As Rose dove headfirst into a blow-by-blow comparison of Scorpius’ execution of the Bulgarian maneuver compared to that of Malthius Davies, Albus let his eyes wander across the common room, passing over groups of students clustered together, most with grins plastered on their faces as they hugged their friends and draped themselves over armchairs. In a far corner that met at the confluence of two false windows, Albus’ gaze caught on two boys, a fourth-year on the quidditch team who he recognized from potions class and another, dark-haired boy who was unfamiliar to him. Albus watched as the taller, unknown boy, bathed in the soft green light of the lake, leaned down to gently kiss the other. Albus’ eyes widened. The ethereal glow that the false windows cast on the scene made it seem almost unreal in Albus’ mind, but he jerked back to reality as he realized what he was feeling was not surprise, but rather a curious fascination. None of the other students around the boys paid them any mind; a girl he’d was fairly sure was in his potions class even glanced at the couple and smiled.  
Albus had never before considered that it would be alright, by his peers’ standards, to be attracted to another man. As this thought floated across his mind, he found himself being drawn back to his group by Andi’s hand snaking around his waist. His eyes, however, lit on Scorpius. A broad, easy smile rested on Scorpius’ face. Albus hadn’t noticed before how much this smile did to soften the angular lines of Scorpius’ jaw and cheekbones, so rarely did he see his friend so happy and relaxed.  
“...right, Albus?” The fog lifted from Albus’ mind as he heard Rose drop his name.  
“Huh, yeah… wait, what?” Albus faltered. Scorpius had now trained his smile on Albus, but Rose held him with the spirited stare-down only a daughter of Hermione Granger could muster.  
“I was saying,” Rose smirked, “that you were quite… enraptured by Scorpius’ performance.”  
Albus wished he could safely scowl at his cousin. “Of course I was, he’s my best friend!” Albus defended himself. “But Scorpius, you really did play incredibly, Rose spent the entire match pointing out the nuances of your play to me, in painstaking detail I might add. It sounds like you were holding the Slytherin chasers together up there.” Scorpius’ smile, though it seemed impossible, appeared to grow a little larger.  
Rose winked at Albus, then continued her monologue. “Honestly, Scorpius, I think you could be second to Malthius Davies, as far as chasers go, after an impressive showing like that. Making the all-Hogwarts team might not be as much of a pipe dream as you think…”  
At that moment, the blond fourth-year who Albus had seen with the other boy in the corner came up behind Scorpius and clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m going to have to steal Malfoy here for a little post-game celebration,” the boy grinned. “Team members only, sorry folks.”  
“Sorry guys, I should go. Thanks for coming, it really means a lot.” Scorpius’ eyes caught on Albus’ for a split second longer than any of the others before he turned and strode off behind his teammate with a cheerful wave.  
“Watch out for him, two butterbeers and he’s a hazard to himself and everyone else in a ten-foot radius!” Rose hollered after Scorpius good-naturedly.  
Scorpius flipped his middle finger at Rose as he disappeared through the wall, but they could hear him laughing.  
“Well, I guess that’s my cue,” Rose clapped her hands together and glanced around at the green-and-silver-clad students around her. “I’m beginning to look a little out-of-place. Better leave you two lovebirds alone to celebrate the win anyway.”  
Albus jumped, slightly surprised to find Andi still standing next to him as Rose strode toward the exit. He had all but forgotten she was there. Andi smiled, her caramel hair framing a truly lovely face. “Shall we?” She took his hand and led him toward the dormitories. But as they made their way up the stairs, Albus couldn’t help looking back toward the entrance. He shook himself, realizing he should be focused on the slight, female figure ahead of him, rather than hoping that a familiar, pale blond head would pop through the door.


	7. Early Morning Arrival

The thick fog over the black lake had not yet begun to disperse as the first rays of sunlight peeked above the horizon. The breeze that swept at the robes of the gathered students was crisp, a chilling reminder of the winter months ahead. Scorpius stood amongst members of his house. He pulled his robes tightly around him and tucked his chin into his scarf to try to save his cheeks from the biting breeze.  
The students of Hogwarts stretched across the relatively narrow field of grass between the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake. The students were not organized in any official arrangement, but nonetheless the swath of silver and green had a comfortable yellow and blue buffer between itself and the red and gold on the far side of the lawn.  
A muffled grumbling could be heard throughout the students. Some complained about the early hour, while others focused on the frigid temperature. However, no one made a move back towards the castle as the makeshift podium before them was much too intriguing.  
“I think it should be illegal to force people to be awake before the sun is up,” Albus grumbled. Scorpius shot him a sympathetic look. Rose, on the other hand, looked rather chipper, and she laughed at Albus as he attempted to burrow into his clothes.  
“As valiant as an effort as you’re making, sleeping standing up is not a skill humans are actually born with.” Rose was grinning. Her hands weren’t even in her pockets and Scorpius wondered how she wasn’t freezing. “And if you do manage the feat, you’ll miss out on whatever is about to happen. It has to be a big deal to drag the whole school out here. Aren’t you excited?”  
“No,” Albus grunted, but he did pull his knit hat higher onto his head so it no longer covered his eyes. “What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be with your own house?” Albus grumbled. Jerking his head at the sea of Slytherins surrounding them.  
Again, Rose laughed. However, this time there was a certain edge to the chuckle that set Scorpius’ hair on edge. “Oh dear cousin. I have some things I want to see through that require my presence among you snakes.” As she spoke, she caught and held Albus’ eyes, daring him to prod her further, promising that he wouldn’t like the outcome. Albus turned away with a slight huff, muttering something about dreadful aunts. Rose’s expression practically twinkled at his surrender and she turned to Scorpius who simply shrugged, unwilling to get involved so early in the morning.  
Huddled together, the three turned their silent focus toward the podium. They startled, seeing Professor McGonagall sweep up to the podium. Slowly, a hush fell across the swath of students before her. McGonagall’s eyes seemed to pinpoint the individuals who still spoke and her gaze fastened upon them until they too fell silent.  
Without any sort of visible enhancement, McGonagall’s voice rang out over the students. “Today marks a momentous day. The Ilvermorny students for whom we’ve been preparing. Their arrival is an unparalleled opportunity for students to build relationships with other young witches and wizards. The Ilvermorny students will be attending classes with you and staying in your dorms. I encourage you to make the most of these opportunities. However, I must advise against allowing the presence of these students to distract you from your studies. On a lighter note, I’m told that the formation of the all-star Quidditch team is going swimmingly.”  
“Now, please welcome Ilvermorny!” Professor McGonagall made a sweeping motion with her arm and a collective inhalation of cold morning air hummed through the gathered students. Behind McGonagall was a giant brownstone. It regally rose perhaps 35 meters into the air. The students on the grass gawked at one another. No individual could pinpoint the moment it had arrived. It certainly was not there when McGonagall had begun her speech, but no point stood out in the minds of the students as to when exactly it had arrived.  
With the Hogwarts students still bewildered, the doors of the brownstone swung open. Descending the stairs that led up to the entrance, two rows of students clad in blue and cranberry marched militantly up onto the podium and faced Professor McGonagall. In unison, their heads and shoulders inclined towards her before straightening and turning to face the assembled Hogwarts students. As one, they drew their wands and pointing them skyward launched a flurry of red white and blue sparks. The sparks coalesced into a giant eagle that swooped down over the Hogwarts students. With a few thunderous beats of its wings, it turned and sailed across the lake, disappearing into the blaze of the sun rising fully over the horizon.


	8. A Time Honored Tradition

Albus trudged into the Charms classroom, squinting his eyes against the bright sunlight streaming in through the many arched windows. He shuffled along the wall to where Scorpius was sitting amongst their Slytherin classmates and plopped his bag down heavily on the empty desk next to his friend.  
“Why do you think the desks are arranged like this?” The sound of Scorpius’ voice brought Albus out of his typical morning stupor.  
“Huh- what?” Albus asked groggily.  
“The desks,” Scorpius repeated. “They’re all cleared out to make that big open space, why do you think that is?”  
Albus surveyed the classroom. He hadn’t noticed when he came in, but sure enough all the desks and chairs were cleared to the outskirts of the classroom, to form a large open space in the middle. “Maybe we’re exploding something,” Albus suggested hopefully.  
“That doesn’t seem quite Flitwick’s style,” Scorpius laughed.  
Other students were studying the peculiar classroom arrangement and chatting amongst themselves, but everyone went quiet when the door swung open and Professor Flitwick strode through, accompanied by Professor McGonagall. Albus heard the student next to him whisper to his neighbor, “Do you think we’re having a guest lecture?”  
“Good morning, students!” Professor Flitwick chirped. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the temporary changes we’ve made to the classroom. In lieu of Charms today, you’ll all be learning a different, but equally important, skill. I’ll let Headmistress McGonagall explain, as she’ll be conducting today’s lesson.” Scorpius looked to Albus, who shrugged, signaling that he was as confused as his friend.  
Professor McGonagall stood tall, peering down at the students seated before her. “This year we have the opportunity of continuing a time honored tradition among wizards and witches.” On a different day, the peculiar wistful tone tinging McGonagall’s words would have caused Scorpius to glance up from the loose string on his dress robes. However, today his thoughts were elsewhere and he scarcely caught a word describing the ensuing activities to the students.  
“-so pair up and we shall begin.” Professor McGonagall finished her speech. Startled back into focus, Scorpius glanced around to see students grudgingly grouping off. Scorpius turned to Albus to find the dark haired boy’s eyes closed and a slight snore whispering out from his mouth. A sharp elbow to the ribs and Albus jerked upright.   
“Dragon balls, I hate mornings. What’d I miss? What’s going on?” Albus questioned a flushing Scorpius.  
“Um well we are supposed to pair off, but as for what we are doing, I may have been a little distracted, just thinking you know, and while I have a general idea of what’s going on, I don’t really know. Or perhaps I do know, but I--”  
Chuckling, Albus interrupted the rambling blonde. “Ahh you have as little idea as to what’s happening as I do, how delightful. How does it feel to join the ranks of the underachievers?”  
Blushing furiously Scorpius told him to shut up and went to stand. “I think everyone’s paired up, so we’re partners for whatever this is. Hurry up, I don’t want to be last.” He dragged the still giggling boy out to where the other couples were congregating in the middle of the open space.  
Glancing around at those surrounding him, Scorpius caught Rose’s eye and something twinkled behind her smile, half-hidden by the collar of the shirt she wore under her robes. Rose stood partnered with a Hufflepuff fifth year whose straw-colored curls created a halo around a cherubic face. Scorpius raised a curious eyebrow, but the twinkle only intensified in her eyes, and she turned away from him, seeming to smother a cackle.  
“We shall dive right in. In each couple, you must choose someone to lead.” Scorpius glanced at Albus and shrugged, Albus winked back knowing Scorpius rarely went first if he had the option to go second or better, last. “Now, the lead place your right hand on your partner’s waist.”   
Confused, the two boys stared at each other and then scanned those around them to find that, sure enough, people were stepping up to each other and resting a palm on the hip of their partner. Befuddled, Albus shuffled closer to Scorpius and tentatively put his hand on Scorpius’ slightly boney hip. “This is the oddest start to a spell I’ve ever been seen and my aunt does some crazy spells.” Albus joked to the red cheek of Scorpius as he studiously avoided looking over at his dark haired companion.   
Scorpius coughed out a half chuckle and opened his mouth to respond when Professor McGonagall’s voice rang out over them again, “Now, whoever is not the lead--the follow--place your left hand onto the shoulder of your partner and--Parkinson! That is not her shoulder! This is no place for such shenanigans! Do not disrespect the time honored tradition of the formal dance with your depravity!”  
Scorpius finally looked at Albus with a mouth hung open at McGonagall’s words. Albus’ eyes were unnaturally wide for this early in the morning as he stared right back at his best friend.   
“Now, join free hands and to get a feel for the position, try a little swaying as a unit!” Professor McGonagall called out. In a stupor, Scorpius didn’t even move to raise his free hand. Albus reached over and snagged it and forced them into an awkward jerking motion as they maintained as much space between them as their bodies would allow.   
“Well I guess this isn’t some odd charm after all.” Albus tried to lighten the awkward tension permeating the gap between them. Scorpius managed some sort of squeak of acknowledgement. They continued to swivel this way and that.   
Scorpius finally opened his mouth to try to break the silence that had descended upon them when a long-fingered hand appeared on his shoulder. An identical hand appeared on Albus’, and Professor McGonagall’s face appeared in the space above their clasped hands. “Boys. This is most dreadful. How can you possibly expect to find any sort of rhythm if you’re practically falling out of each other’s grip?” With a shove that seemed too strong for such an elderly woman, McGonagall forced the two boys closer together. “There. Now you can give weight through your arms.” She grabbed Scorpius’ arm and made him firm up his grip on Albus’ shoulder in demonstration. “Okay. Now try to find a nice rhythm. Good. Keep swaying. I’ll be instructing on footwork shortly, but for now, work on moving in sync and supporting one another. Very good.”  
As she disappeared to correct the next couple, Albus and Scorpius attempted to do as she said lest she come back and force them even closer together to help them find some elusive rhythm.   
Neither looked at the other, too afraid that their noses might bump or something equally embarrassing, but Scorpius did find Rose’s eyes over Albus’ shoulder. She swayed in a close embrace with the curly-haired Hufflepuff. Upon seeing the position and stilted sway of the pair, she practically burst in her efforts to contain her laughter and had to put her head down on her partner’s shoulder as her body spasmed several times. When she looked up again at Scorpius’ face, which had somehow managed to be flushed bright red and shockingly pale at the same time, her laughter turned to a sympathetic smile and she gave him a thumbs up with the hand on her partner’s shoulder.   
Scorpius opened and closed his mouth several times as if intending to mouth something to her, but seemed at a loss for anything to say. Rose jerked her head towards Albus and Scorpius, with wide eyes, turned his head back to look at his painfully close best friend.  
“So, do you think that this dance is the kind of thing where you have to take a date? My parents told me they had something like this. Apparently, my uncle and dad made right fools of themselves during the thing. We’ll try not to follow in their footsteps?” Albus forced a laugh.  
Grasping desperately for the lifeline Albus was offering, Scorpius replied, “I have no idea who my dad went with. He doesn’t really talk about his time here much. I think he’s a bit embarrassed by how it all went down and a bit too proud now to dredge it all back up.”   
Albus nodded at that. He hadn’t spent very much time with Draco Malfoy, as he seemed to quietly disapprove of his son’s choice of a best friend, but he was always courteous in an obtuse kind of way when he ran into Albus’ parents at some function or another. The fact that Albus’ dad helped end Draco’s dad in Azkaban didn’t particularly help his and Scorpius’ relationship he supposed.  
“At least he didn’t send me to Durmstrang,” Scorpius shrugged sheepishly. They were close enough at this point to not warrant raised voices.  
“Too true. Where would you be without me?”   
Before Scorpius could reply, Professor McGonagall resumed her group instructions on the footwork required to execute the exact dance they were required to know for the formal section of the event. After watching the students stumble over one another’s feet for a few minutes, leading to at least one bloody nose and a poked eye, Professor McGonagall sighed and called out, “Stop, please!”  
The laughter and chatter in the room died down, and the sound of a pair colliding with a chair could be heard in the relative quiet. “Perhaps a live demonstration will allow you to better comprehend the required steps,” Professor McGonagall said. “You’re all students at Britain’s most prestigious wizarding academy, one would think some simple footwork would not be beyond your grasp,” she sniffed.  
At that moment, a blonde head could be seen striding past the open door of the classroom. Out of the corner of his eye, Scorpius noticed Rose’s head jerk toward the door. Professor McGonagall swiftly called out, “Professor Simulata!” The students collectively rotated towards the door of the classroom, where the Potions professor now stood, arms laden with a pile of books.   
“Hello Headmistress, I’m just returning some books Professor Flitwick was kind enough to loan me. I’ll be out of your way in just a moment.”  
“Nonsense! I was just commenting that these fifth years are in desperate need of a waltzing demonstration. I’m afraid I’m past my prime in this regard, but you are quite the proficient dancer if I remember correctly.” With a sweep of her arm, McGonagall beckoned an atypically timid Professor Simulata out into the middle of the room.   
McGonagall’s eyes swept over the students, passing over Scorpius and Albus to settle upon Rose, who was seated rigidly next to her cherubic partner. “Ms. Granger-Weasley, why don’t you join us for the demonstration. I seem to recall your father was quite the dancer back in the day.”  
Rose flushed a red, painfully reminiscent of the man in question. She opened her mouth as if to protest, but stood up resolutely and strode to the center of the classroom. Albus raised a single eyebrow at Scorpius. They would’ve expected Rose to jump at the opportunity to show off her dancing skills. Looking over to Professor Simulata, the two found a similar reservedness in the way she strode further into the open space. She smiled courteously at Rose, whose flush became, if anything, deeper.  
Professor McGonagall clapped her hands together, startling Rose, Simulata, and most of the students gathered around the edges of the classroom. “If the two of you would demonstrate a waltz, please,” McGonagall stated, waving her wand at the record player in the corner, that promptly sang to life with a three-beat tune.   
An awkward moment followed the first two cycles of the beat, in which Rose and Professor Simulata stood facing one another, a few too many feet apart. But upon the third iteration, Rose stepped forward, hand upraised to receive Professor Simulata’s. The blonde professor stepped into Rose, and the two of them began to circumambulate the classroom, flowing gracefully in tune with the music. Professor Simulata guided their path, a hand wrapped lightly around Rose’s waist.   
After two full circles around the room, Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and the music died abruptly. Rose and the Professor took two more gliding steps in their rhythm before jerking to a stop. Disentangling themselves, Professor Simulata inclined her head to Professor McGonagall before turning and striding out of the room without a word.   
Scorpius glanced at an equally awestruck Albus, to find his friend staring right back. “I’m screwed.”   
Albus nodded and rose, thrusting a hand out. “Might as well take all the practice we get…” Scorpius put his hand in Albus’ and let himself get dragged to his feet and out onto the makeshift dance floor. The two boys valiantly wrapped their arms around one another, and as the music began, tried again to conquer the twisting footwork, elegant spins, and gliding rhythm.  
As the music flowed from one song into another, Scorpius couldn’t help but notice that a certain curly-haired girl was dancing with Professor Flitwick. He glanced around the room, searching the faces of his peers, but failed to locate Rose. He craned his neck backwards, searching behind him, inviting a questioning look from Albus. Scorpius shook his head and shrugged, meeting Albus’ green eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to his feet in a desperate attempt to save Albus’ toes.


End file.
